


Phosphorescence

by fragilevixen



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Banter, Canon Divergent, Easter Eggs of previous moments, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Light Angst, Post-Episode: s06e21 Field Trip, RST, Romance, Smut, UST
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:40:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29590137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragilevixen/pseuds/fragilevixen
Summary: Still reeling from their experience in North Carolina, Mulder and Scully take a much-needed excursion to the coast of Oregon, where a flicker of light becomes more than a curiosity in the middle of the night.“It’s rather easy to shine in the light but to glow in the dark…that’s mastery!” – Rick Benetfeau
Relationships: Fox Mulder & Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 28
Kudos: 55
Collections: X-Files Dialogue Fanfic Exchange (2021)





	1. Lighthouse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnnieAmi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieAmi/gifts).



> bi·o·lu·mi·nes·cence /ˌbīōˌlo͞oməˈnesəns/
> 
> noun  
> the biochemical emission of light by living organisms such as fireflies and deep-sea fishes.
> 
> Utilizing the fabulous prompt from Annie Flowers of 1. "Oh, my god! Did you see that?" 2. "Yeah, it was...". I was excited (and nervous) to get you because I have never written a fic for you, specifically, before and it felt like a challenge. My brain kept going back to a topic and I knew that Mulder’s curiosity would go so perfectly with a Scully that just wants to clear her mind. I hope this is everything you wanted and more. 
> 
> Also, the Embarcadero is real, I just can’t remember when it opened and was renovated. I am utilizing what I know is there (despite the lack of remembrance of the layout of the hotel itself)

_Glowing in the darkness_

_There is nothing more beautiful_

_Than a woman who can glow even_

_Within the darkness of her own broken pieces._

-Unknown

Thursday, July 8, 1999, 12:30 PM

Basement Level – ‘X’ Files

FBI Headquarters, Washington, DC

Scully hadn’t been able to shake the nightmares for weeks.

A flash of yellow and a glow that preceded the slow, agonizing ache of pressure on her chest, her limbs, her back. Pushing slowly, dragging her down. Consuming her, piece by piece, until she was inhaling dirt and muck, buried beneath every layer. It took everything to break free as the smell of earth, the collective of acrid, consumed flesh, and the caustic after-burn that radiated from the ground nearly took her last breath. Scully had never been afflicted by claustrophobia, but she found herself drawing close, even as the glints of sunlight filtered through the soil above as safety was called. The dreams were the same every time, with her fingers slipping away from Mulders, returning to a burial, only to wake in the sweaty confines of her bed.

Alone.

Breathless.

A little closer to a breakdown.

Scully couldn’t help but wonder, though, if Mulder felt even half of the agony she did as she pushed another drawer shut and reached for more files to bury right alongside the one that had just been put away.

“The FBI is cutting costs again,” Mulder blurted, cutting the silence with a knife as he popped the slide cartridge free from the top of the display and twisted it back into its box. “Hear that?”

“Hear what?” Scully furrowed a brow and glanced at the label on the manila in her hand while dragging her index to the correct spot. “I don’t hear anything. It’s just quiet.”

“Precisely,” Mulder pressed his lips together and began working on a second drum of slides. “The air is off in July. I get it that we’re in the basement but…it still gets hot down here in the middle of the day.”

“You’re right about that but I don’t know what good saying anything out loud will do for us now,” Scully tilted her head as she pushed the alphabetized files into the drawer and took a step back, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow. “I’m tired of filing...are you tired of filing? I’m tired of it.”

“You said that already, Scully,” Mulder was nodding slowly as he operated the canister of slides with careful precision after wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “I’m just tired.”

Scully held a breath and pressed her lips together, pushing the air out in an audible display as she stared at him for a moment. “I figured I should say it again to really drive the point home...in case it wasn’t painfully obvious.”

Scully pushed the drawer shut, the snapping of metal on metal barely inciting a flinch from Mulder as he picked up another slide from the box in front of him. He’d been arranging them, carefully, by number and orientation while her focus was on putting away the last of the mess from the week before. Reality had been swift even with a faded haze of uncertainty swirling in the room. North Carolina definitely had gotten to Scully, unraveling her ability to reason with the unknown but it was evident, despite the energy that Mulder exuded, that something was off with him as well. Mulder’s concept of perception had begun to wane, despite the attempt to maintain a level of resolve, and he had been taking measures to look at her more often as if she might not be there.

Neither of them had uttered a word about their feelings to the other, opting to play a game of pretend with their psyches to the point that the everyday activity had become mundane.

Lather, rinse, and repeat.

“I was okay with maneuvering around the stacks,” Mulder smirked from behind the desk, teasing her a bit as she gave him a sideways glance. “I’m not the one that complained about feeling like the walls were closing in.”

“You’d be content turning this office into what most people hold serious interventions over. I’m certain you’d let it become the prototypical example of hoarding,” Scully glanced to the left as he picked up the final slide to peer through it toward the overhead light. “You’ve got that look on your face again like the cat that just ate a canary, Mulder. What are you up to?”

“Thinking of me so suspiciously after an entire day in close quarters?” Mulder carefully moved the delicate slide back into place and scooted back, pulling an envelope from the top drawer that he’d been concealing. “I’m not good at keeping secrets and you’re not good at letting me try to. You know that.”

Scully elevated her brow as he extended it toward her without saying another word, her curiosity piqued as she hesitated to reach for it. Mulder was good at several things and provoking Scully into a wild goose chase was just one of them. She licked her lips despite herself and pulled it from his grasp, lingering on the plain, unassuming exterior before folding the opening back. He had roused something in her but it wasn’t exactly a positive as she leaned against the edge of the desk, studying him for a long moment. Scully didn’t want to look but the intrigue was outweighing the potential irritation as she pulled the contents free while his smile blossomed.

“Really?” Scully didn’t know if it was displeasure or another level of fascination developing as she held up the airline tickets and scrutinized the look on his face. “…you’re serious? You can’t be serious… _Oregon_? Mulder, no.”

“Scully, yes,” Mulder chuckled and tapped on the tickets in her hand, discovering satisfaction in her conflict. “There’s a lot more to Oregon than the rainy, mountain landscape of Bellefleur and I know how you feel about coastal towns. It isn’t like either of us are hurting for the time off. Skinner has been glaring at me for weeks over the unused PTO.”

“Oh, you’re trying to appeal to the girly side of me and PTO to get me excited about a trip to the sea when you plan on getting me dirty as usual,” Scully scoffed and watched his face contort as she continued to chastise him. “What exactly are you planning on making me shove my feet into a pair of rubber boots for this time?”

“I wouldn’t say you’ll need rubber boots but you’ll need a decent jacket and something you’d wear on an incline primary consisting of sand and grass. I know there are a pair of hiking boots hiding in that closet of yours,” Mulder scratched his stubble and feigned innocence as Scully sank into the waiting chair opposite his, her displeasure visible with a huff as she crossed her legs. “I mean, I suppose I could rent a room and a boat alone and venture out into the night by myself to handle my own devices.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Scully crossed her arms and continued to let the tickets fan between her fingers across the armrest, her frustration ample as she sank in her seat, letting the rant roll off of her tongue. “I’m not going to let knowing that you could run out of fuel, drift out to sea, get caught in a riptide, or crash against rocks and sink, inevitably bring about your death, weigh on my conscious, Mulder.”

“So, you’re coming?” Mulder’s careful choice of words nearly made her eyes pop out of her head as he straightened his spine and continued. “I have this solid itinerary built around the exploration of unknown, bright, floating lights, along the coast of Oregon. You’re in, right?”

Scully looked at the tickets, her eyes moving over the itinerary departure time of 5:00 pm, sighing at the very typical short notice that he loved to give her, “I don’t think saying ‘no’ would be wise this time…and it looks like we’re running low on time.”

Mulder nodded and swiped the tickets from her hand, helping her to her feet with the energy of an overzealous child at Christmastime, the grin creeping further across his lips. “We’d better get a move on, then.”

“You’re not hiding a file somewhere, are you?” Scully was distrusting of that look on his face and she had every reason to be. “I know you and unidentified is usually stamped with a big, red _X_. You can just forget about it if it is.”

“Not everything unidentified has to be loaded, on the clock, or found within the confines of those filing cabinets you just spent hours organizing,” Mulder couldn’t help but chuckle at her as he gestured toward the door, beaming at her. “It’s a very interesting phenomenon and a solo trip sounds a little like the remake of _Jaws_.”

There it was, plain as day like neon lights flashing. Mulder had backed her into a corner and that goddamn smirk was evidence enough that he knew it. _Giving in_ wouldn’t have eloquently described the feeling, even as she held the edges of her jacket while gathering her things. He had _snared_ her and they both knew it with more certainty than ever. Refusing him now would look like an evasive maneuver even if she desired nothing more than to hide from that expression he had plastered on his face. Disarming, undeniably unyielding, and silently needy. It was another one of Mulder’s gifts; one that had a propensity to know exactly where to bite.

Scully just might have let him, though…until it hurt.

“This is entrapment,” Scully muttered as she moved through the doorway and shook her head at him. “Cheap.”

“Damn right it is,” Mulder flicked the light off, chuckling at her as he pulled the door shut. “Don’t dawdle, Scully, and just go with it.”

“Well then,” Scully followed him as the elevator doors opened unceremoniously. “I think you just helped me figure out what’s going on my headstone... _she just went with it_.”

_It is better to light a candle_

_Than curse the darkness._

-Eleanor Roosevelt

9:15 PM

Embarcadero Resort Hotel & Marina

1000 SE Bay Blvd

Newport, OR

The smell of salt and fog welcomed Mulder and Scully on their drive down from Portland, winding along Highway 101 as it moved south. Mulder had offered to let Scully sleep but she declined, opting to watch the mist through the trees and the changing terrain as they grew closer to the coastline. Yaquina Head Lighthouse, spinning along the horizon, beckoned them closer and welcomed them toward their destination. Mulder glanced at Scully as she sat up more rigidly, more attentively, in the passenger seat to watch as the brilliant, white light meandered round and round. It was stunning against the dark, star littered sky despite the thick, low lying fog that hovered above.

This was a far cry from the last time that they’d been to Oregon. The mix of summer air and a deep, pacific wind highlighted the absence of rain as the tires crunched the gravel of the drive. Even in the dark of night, the fog horn bellowed and Scully stood next to the rental to listen as it echoed through the trees. As it lulled to nothing, the creaking of the dock and the refrain of thumps provided the reminder of pieces of Scully’s memory that she hadn’t accessed in so long. There was pleasantness in the sound; a far cry from the bustling noise of Washington DC.

It was a stunning landscape even as they carried their modest luggage toward the entrance to the hotel.

“So is your plan to go out on the water, in the dark?” Scully was already rolling her eyes as she watched him take another sip of cheap, cold, airport coffee perched between his fingers that he had laced with far too much sugar for a change. “Or are we going to sleep on it, first?”

“I called ahead to set up a late rental on a small craft in the harbor and already prepared for a late check-in so we could get in the water and drop anchor right below the lighthouse,” Mulder’s boyish grin was enough to drive the average woman crazy but Scully took it in stride as they entered the driftwood and glass space to register.

“Mulder, you do understand the finer points of charting tides and the instability of the pacific coast’s surf, or are you just going to go _balls_ to the wall like usual?” Scully tilted her head to the side as they approached the fading perky smile of the clerk at the desk, her dark circles showing from feet away as she milked another drink of the ailing, stale coffee in her hand.

“Say _balls_ one more time, Scully,” Mulder delivered a cheeky grin and said the remark far louder than intended as the clerk choked on her coffee as he set an itinerary on the counter and flashed a smile at the woman. “I have been looking at the charts for a couple of days and am going to let the Naval brat take the wheel…hi, I called this morning about a reservation for two rooms? Reservation should be under the name Mulder.”

“From DC, right?” The woman faked the energy in her tone fairly well as she started typing the name into the system and waited for the screen to load, waiting for Mulder to nod in response, and grimaced as a note flashed across the reservation. “Oh, Mister Mulder, I am so sorry but it looks like we tried to call you back this afternoon to adjust your room arrangement.”

“Lemme guess, there wasn’t availability after all?” Mulder could feel Scully’s stare through the side of his face as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly, the frustration oozing from his pores. “Don’t say it, Scully.”

“I wasn’t going to say a thing,” Scully hid the smile and licked her lips as the clerk fidgeted behind the counter. “Call me a brat one more time, though, and see how far that gets you.”

“There is an availability but it isn’t for the two rooms as you originally requested,” The smile on her face was tight and the rapid blinking conveyed the anxiousness of having to stay late for a problematic reservation as she kept eye contact with Mulder. “The room is one of our best rooms, though, and we would be reducing the rate to the same amount as a standard suite—it has a king-size bed and a sofa sleeper.”

Mulder glanced at Scully, at the elevated brow, and contemplated the gun at his side as he exhaled through his teeth. “I don’t want to assume you’re okay with one room so it’s really in your hands…”

Scully bit her lip at the prospect of sharing a room even with the sofa bed in it and shrugged her shoulders as she felt a flutter of heat climbing up her neck. “It is an upgraded room, Mulder. I think we can handle sharing a room.”

“Just for the extra patience, I’m going to comp a bottle of wine on us, you just have to let us know if you’d prefer red, white, or a sparkling blush,” Her fingers were clicking away at the keyboard, eyes darting between them and her screen, the corners of her lips softening as she was no longer compelled to fake a smile. “You just let room service know to double-check with Shay and I’ll take care of it.”

“Maybe just send up a bottle of red, then,” Mulder shocked Scully with the immediate choice in wine as he signed a few printouts from Shay after exchanging a copy of his ID and the card he had already given over the phone. “We’re going to be on the water investigating that coastal phenomenon that everyone’s been talking about?”

“A bottle of red? We have a local Pinot Noir that everyone seems to love so I’ll have that sent up,” Shay nodded and continued with setting up their reservation as she continued to make copies of all the documents in front of her. “Oh yeah, the green glows that people keep seeing in and above the water? People kept thinking they were fireflies but they don’t really move like that.”

“It perked an interest,” Mulder gathered the paperwork from the counter and shoved it into the top of his carry on before palming the key to the room, his patience waning as he looked at Scully. “A boat ride, unidentified glows near the cliffs, and a bottle of wine…we’re pushing the limits.”

“I might need that wine putting up with another wild goose chase,” Scully adjusted her grip on the suitcase at her side while Mulder returned his attention to Shay, who was waiting to show him where the room was on the diagram.

“The room is on our third floor on the western side. If you follow the pathway to the left of the parking area, the rooms are in the second building. You’ll go up the stairs, to the right,” Shay circled it on the brochure and handed it to Mulder, suppressing a yawn with her free hand. “Can’t miss it.”

“Thank you, Shay,” Mulder held the brochure and glanced at it as they retreated toward the doors, following the indicated path toward the luxury suites that Shay had circled on the interior fold, the smell of salt and wet wood in the air. “It’s tempting to forget the reservation for the charter.”

“I mean, there’s still time,” Scully chuckled as they went into their building and started up the stairs, dragging their things along the way in a poorly lit stairwell. “I’m hoping that the room is more inviting than this hallway.”

“I find your lack of faith _disturbing_ ,” Mulder made her laugh far harder than he’d expected as they got to the top of the landing for the third floor just in time to inhale the distinct, faint permeation of moisture from an open window at the end of the hall. “Bringing the full experience of the harbor into the room? How quaint.”

“Okay, Vader,” Scully rolled her eyes and followed him toward the room, counting off the numbers in her head as each one went by. “We should be counting our little blessings that the smell is the harbor and not mold.”

“Well, let’s just hope that room upgrade is worth the fuss,” Mulder waited for the signature beep of the key card as he slid it into place, turning the handle while giving it a modest push until he was halfway into the room and the first of many follies became very apparent. “Oh, Jesus Christ. This is going to be interesting.”

“Now I’m worried,” Scully pushed beyond the entry, drawn in by the ambient glow of the lights from the docks through the open curtains as it was already casting across the floor, ignoring her surroundings. “It looks like a typical room with a few upgrades, Mulder…the balcony is perfect.”

“Scully before you go calling anything in here perfect, you might want to turn around,” Mulder’s voice was echoing after the muted tap of the door shutting on itself, the amplification resembling the kind off of marble or tiles.

Scully turned around from behind a couple of armchairs after admiring the view of the harbor and widened her eyes at the easily visible image of Mulder’s entire figure through a cutout in the wall. It led to the bathroom and left little to the imagination as the jacuzzi tub was shielded by nothing between the bed and the wall. Scully’s lip slid, comfortably, between her teeth as a flash of rising steam, vulnerable, exposed flesh, and whirring jets invaded her thoughts, embarrassing her immediately. The blush sprinkled across her cheeks but the pale moonlight concealed it just enough to keep Mulder from noticing.

“Really?” Scully gathered her suitcase and set it on the edge of the bed, her impenetrable stare still locked in the direction of Mulder’s awkward stance as he stood in the middle of the bathroom. “They couldn’t put a frosted window there to give the illusion of a peep show and dampen the sound of toilet use?”

“A peep show?” Mulder coughed as he swallowed hard and dragged his suitcase around to the same side of the room, leaving his belongings in one of the chairs as a laugh rippled through him. “I had no idea you were into fetishes, Scully. That must be a Catholic thing.”

“Mulder,” Scully had both brows pointed toward the ceiling, the amusement mingling with the agitation as she crossed her arms while continuing to examine the ledge that separated the living space from the bath. “At least there seems to be a water closet.”

Mulder gathered his jacket and the keys to the rental while a grin worked across his lips, encouraging another layer of her restlessness. “I think that whether or not we can hear each other pee will be the least of our concerns, Scully…but we’ll worry about that when we get back from looking for those glowing lights.”

Scully pulled her coat on and followed him into the hallway, a fair amount of uneasiness making its way into her stomach as the wind whistled through the gaps in the windows. “Well, I guess I’ll curb my anxiety until I know for certain that you’re not about to lead me straight to my death on those rocks on the coast.”

“Remember, Scully,” Mulder pulled the door closed and led the way toward the stairwell, winking at her like a mischievous teenager. “You’re going to be the one in charge of making sure we don’t capsize.”

Scully hesitated at the top of the stairs and heard him chuckling at the halfway point of the flight, his eyes glancing back up at her, expectantly as she came down to meet him. “You just keep walking and I’ll make sure that when we’re on the water that we can drop anchor without having to worry about getting tossed against any rocks mistaken for Big Blue.”

Mulder grinned despite himself and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as she shrugged her shoulders at him. “That’s a low blow, even for you.”

Scully opened the door at the bottom of the stairs and leaned against it as the breeze brought a section of her hair across her cheek, covering half of her eye as she kept that perked smile on her lips. Mulder may have had the upper hand on what they were up to but Scully knew how to even the odds with nothing more than a look. It discombobulated him and frayed the edges of his consciousness, teetering him right at the edge of blurting out every postulation as though it were a confession. Scully had that much power over him. Mulder just didn’t know if Scully was ever aware of that power she wielded.

“You stepped right into it, Mulder,” Scully cleared her throat as they meandered into the night air, the docks in the distance. “You give me far too much fuel for the fire and I couldn’t resist the opportunity.”

Mulder shook his head and chuckled under his breath as his shoes touched the top of the wooden planks toward the marina, glancing at her only once to steal a peek at that smile. “You’re a regular comedian tonight...let’s just go get the boat.”


	2. Drop Anchor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chartered course, rolling fog, and a beacon light in the distance—signaling so much more than the rocks between the boat and the shore.
> 
> “It’s been keeping me up all night, ‘cause I know what it feels like, to be staring into headlights, pretending that it’s alright.” – Greg Holden, Jamie Hartman, Matthew Simons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Utilizing the fabulous prompt from Annie Flowers of 1. "Oh, my god! Did you see that?" 2. "Yeah, it was...". I was excited to get you because I have never written a fic for you, specifically, before and it felt like a challenge. My brain kept going back to a topic and I knew that Mulder’s curiosity would go so perfectly with a Scully that just wants to clear her mind. I hope this is everything you wanted and more. 
> 
> Also, the Embarcadero is real, I just can’t remember when it opened and was renovated. I am utilizing what I know is there (despite the lack of remembrance of the layout of the hotel itself)
> 
> Oh, and if anyone is wondering…the boat used in this chapter is beach-able and re-launch capable from the sand. I used to see them frequently where I grew up.

_Midnight signals are ringing_

_(Above)_

_We are ready and willing_

_(To feel love)_

_Blowing puffs into the pillars_

_(Of light)_

_Going back to New Cydonia_

_(Tonight)_

-Starcadian

10:30 PM

Just South of Seal Rock

Off the Coast of Agate Beach, OR

Scully hadn’t been paying attention to the water as avidly as Mulder but her eyes were shifting between the controls and the adjusting tide as the wind shifted, sending a chill down her spine. She had a generous grip on the wheel, demonstrating that skill she’d learned from her father, while Mulder moved between the seats at the bow and the ones closer to the stern. The Marina had outfitted the Sea Ray with sonar, and a generous length of chain to drop anchor but had told Mulder twice that they couldn’t just drift. Seaspray and fog littered the windshield, peppering the glass just enough to obscure the view ahead. Luckily, the reliant, spiraling glow of the lighthouse kept them glued to the coastline, kept them from straying too far.

It was a healthy reminder not to get too close, as well, as the crags and cliffs were barely visible through the fog.

“We are at that first marker that you have circled on your map, Mulder,” Scully eased off of the throttle and listened to the stuttered purr of the engine as it came to a slow, gradual halt. “We should be just close enough to the edge of the sand bar to tap the anchor without hooking it too hard.”

Mulder held onto the upright that propped the cover above their heads as the wind whipped just enough to feel it while shifting his weight toward the shell propped across the anchor. “I wasn’t expecting the surf to be this shifty and high tonight.”

“This isn’t very high and it’s a fairly calm night given the westerly wind that just started,” Scully smirked from behind the wheel as she clicked the key out of position and admired Mulder’s backside as he heaved the weighty anchor over the side, splashing himself in the process. “Try not to get your ankles caught in the line, Mulder. I’m a good swimmer but I don’t have deep diving gear to rescue you.”

“Just because you’ve been navigating, Scully, doesn’t mean I’m incapable of staying out of the way of a dropping anchor,” Mulder wiped the water that had come up to hit him in the face, involuntarily licking away the salt that had touched his lips as the boat tugged from the drag below. “Plus, you have nothing to worry about because I’m an expert at dog paddling.”

Scully glanced at the stacked life vests that they should have been wearing and sighed, picturing far too many close calls as a child with her brothers. Mulder wasn’t trying to be agile, though, and that was putting her mind somewhat at ease as he scooted past her, rubbing against her back in the process. The gesture, while unintentional, rippled through her and reinvigorated the goosebumps that had just begun to quell from the surging wind. There weren’t many men that could inspire her to tilt off-kilter quite like Mulder and, whether he was conscious of it or not, Scully sought it out every time. It was almost pathetic when she started to contemplate how it must’ve looked to anyone that had taken notice.

Deep down, Scully just hoped Mulder had remained comfortably oblivious to it.

“So…any sight of these elusive, mystery lights, or are we bobbing around out here like a couple of idiots in a dingy?” Scully slid to the bow, sitting across from him as he perched on the bench cushion with a set of binoculars.

“If this is a dingy, then it was an expensive one,” Mulder kept his eyes forward, delivering a sideways glance at her as he held onto the edge of the boat and grunted while peering through the binoculars. “Are you already getting tired of my company, Scully?”

Scully rolled her eyes and smoothed her fingertips across a rising wake, swirling them through the ailing foam as it came up against the side of the boat. “I wasn’t saying that at all but I can’t keep an eye out on those waves and look for fireflies in the distance at the same time.”

Mulder chuckled and tilted the binoculars down, his boyish smile glowing behind the light at the front of the boat, his voice low as he rested on his haunches. “I’ll concentrate on doing what I do best while you keep those eyes on the horizon so we don’t get hit by a big wave, sound good?”

“If you say so,” Scully leaned back, resting her elbows against the plush cushion behind her while the shroud of mist floated by, dipping against the line where the sky kissed water. “There are nights that I miss that sound.”

“I’ll get you a conch shell that you can put up to your ear, Scully,” Mulder grunted and stretched his legs across the bench on the port side while she kept to the starboard edge. “Why are these sidelights so fucking bright?”

“The white light is brighter,” Scully muttered and crossed her legs as she kept squinting in the direction of the white-capped waves barely visible in the distance. “I’m just pleasantly surprised you didn’t splurge for one of those two-level fishing boats so you could start repeating lines from _Jaws_.”

“Well, we’re not gonna need a bigger boat, though, so there’s that,” Mulder coaxed a giggle from her as he precariously angled against one of the cleats, balancing against the gunwale and inner curve of the deck. “All I see so far is really cold water and accumulating sea foam. This was not in the brochure.”

“Nicely done,” Scully slid forward and moved beyond the glass, grasping the wheel as she moved around to the captain’s chair to double-check the grip on the anchor before doing a once over on all sides. “You’re rarely this impatient which makes me wonder if there’s another reason you brought me out here, Mulder.”

The silence spoke to Scully.

It wasn’t that Mulder didn’t want to be honest but, rather, that the cause was rooted in selfishness that he hadn’t aired verbally. Scully made him question every motivation and yet, put everything back into place as though it was meant to be there. She was his anchor and he hoped that there was a chance that he was her lighthouse. Sure, there were rumors from the locals about mysterious lights but Mulder rarely went anywhere without doing a little homework first. In his soul, Mulder knew how much he craved being in Scully’s company even if it meant making up a story to get her there.

It wasn’t like it was the first time he conned her into spending time with him.

“It isn’t that,” Mulder sat up straight and furrowed his brow as he looked at her as the rounded, white light backlit her and set her aglow, delicately mapping the fog like a halo around her. “I don’t want you to think I’m wasting your time, as usual.”

The truth hadn’t come out and Scully knew it as she meandered back to the bench near him, sinking without realizing just how close he was. “You’re not wasting my time.”

Sure, Scully would’ve rather have been there at dusk, when the sun was still painting the sky in an endless blend of purples, reds, and oranges and the ripples of ocean mimicked the patterns above but his company was more than comfort. It was more than solace. There was electricity there that had bloomed, with desperation to foster closeness that they both had denied for so long. Scully had already felt it long before her fingertips touched his but that moment had confirmed what she’d always known. A day without Mulder was more than Scully was willing to bear and she’d go to the ends of the earth for him without hesitation.

Somewhere, along the way, Scully had fallen in love with her partner.

“You’d tell me if I were, though, right?” Mulder traded the binocs for a thin Maglite to spot search beyond the reaches of the boat’s edge, contemplating the body language of the woman gravitating closer to his diminishing sphere. “I’m not always a pain in the ass that doesn’t think about the impact that actions have on your well-being.”

“Where is all of this coming from, Mulder?” Scully never knew Mulder to be irrational or emotionally unstable but there was an inkling of both as she watched him move across the deck with the flashlight aimed into the water. “You know, one of the least effective ways of searching for something that glows in the dark is shining a light directly at the abyss with the expectation that the little flicker will be brighter than something incandescent.”

“What do you suggest, then?” Mulder widened his stance as the boat rocked against the rise and fall of the swell beneath their vessel, watching her move with ease across the walkway. “It’s just been moving around in my brain.”

Scully reached for the flashlight, tugged it from his grip, and grinned as another breaker nearly sent him tumbling backward without the quick reflex of her free hand to the front of his shirt, demonstrating her prowess with agility. “Go sit at the bow again and take one of the paddles to the water…gently.”

Mulder gulped, nodded, and staggered in the direction of the cushioned, semi-circular bench at the front of the boat, hiding a budding erection as Scully clicked the flashlight off behind him. “That could’ve been a disaster if I’d been out here alone, Scully.”

“You’ve already done that,” Scully subtly jabbed at him as she pushed the Maglite back into the kit on the passenger chair before scooting onto her knees on the starboard side, the coastline dead ahead while Mulder guided a paddle against the top of the surf. “Try not to direct the boat, just turn figure eights in the water to disturb the surface area.”

“Are you instructing me to treat the paddle like it’s a finger and the bubble bath needs to be jostled in a little running water?” Mulder looked at her with his head cocked to the side, smirking as he splashed the side of the boat with every other flick of the wrist.

“Go ahead, keep it up and I’ll just shove you over the side so I don’t have to worry about _rock, paper, scissors_ for the bed tonight,” Scully licked her lips and heard the stalled hiccup of his Adam’s apple bobbing hard against his throat from a sharp inhale.

“I, uh, I mean, I’m fine with the sofa bed so you can take the bed,” Mulder chewed the corner of his lip and adjusted his position until his chin was pressed against the edge, tilted just a touch. “As long as it doesn’t squeak.”

Scully tucked a section of stray hair behind an ear, studying his body language before following the beam of light as it rolled across the water behind the boat, dancing over waves toward the northern side. “There’s a little part of me that would be more than content with a blanket across the sand but I know the unpredictability of coastal weather and I’ll pass on waking up soaked.”

“Knowing my luck, I’d attract every jellyfish for miles and get an asscheek stung at some point in the night—wait a second, what is that?” Mulder squinted into the darkness as the lighthouse’s beam of light was aimed toward land, as the floating hues began to catch his eye just feet in front of the boat, dotting above and below the water. “Oh, my God! Did you see that?”

Scully hadn’t been paying attention as she reeled, grasped the boat’s edge, and perched on her knees as far forward as she could go without falling overboard. She squinted and caught the glints of green as the first wave floated by. It was there, plain as day, flitting around in the fog and in the thickest layer of foam residue leftover from rolling, white-capped waves. They were turquoise and almost emerald, no bigger than flecks of sand but swarmed together like gnats, hovering and dipping through the mist. Scully knew what they were before they had even to cluster together, like stars. The sight was beautiful but Scully was transfixed on Mulder’s exuberant exclamation instead of the display of neon.

Mulder’s overacting was enough to set off some of the alarm bells.

Scully’s smirk formed and faded just as quickly as she tilted her head, shooting a questioning glance in his direction as she settled back on her backside, her digits still angled around the edge. “Yeah, it was…phosphorescent dinoflagellates, Mulder, but you already knew that huh? Rented a boat to hunt for glowing, floating plankton, did you?”

“When you say it like that, it seems lascivious and cheap,” Mulder chewed on his lip and put a little distance between the rail and his chest as he came up to sit a little more comfortably on the bench, his eyes still watching the movement inches above the water and along the swirls of water and off-white puffs as they moved. “I knew there was a possibility it would be a little lackluster but didn’t think it would resemble—”

“Glowing Sea Monkeys that were left unattended? I wondered where they all went,” Scully had one of those often-unseen grins on her face as she slid to her feet and moved toward the space where the anchor was residing, giving it a gentle tug before looking in Mulder’s direction. “Think you could help me with this?”

“Should I be concerned over what you’re up to?” Mulder was considerably less balanced in the boat than Scully but his strength was useful as he slid in behind her to haul in the anchor while she coiled the slack in its cubby. “Hold on.”

“You might be able to see those better from somewhere else,” Scully was having a hard time concentrating as Mulder’s abs were bumping against her back as he reached forward, sending a shiver down her spine while she went rigid from the neck down. “Onto what?”

Mulder snaked an arm around her waist to press her palm against the top edge of the boat, breathing down her neck a little heavier than intended as the anchor smacked against the waterline. “If you fall in, I’m out of breath already and you’ll be out of luck.”

Scully didn’t utter a word in response as Mulder was he finished maneuvering the cumbersome weight back into position, refraining from fully securing it. Awkward wouldn’t have described the energy sparking between them as Mulder gripped her shoulder and checked the line while she shifted toward the captain’s seat. Scully had felt the heat radiating off of him like that before but there was always something else in the way to snuff it out unceremoniously. The direction of the wind changed and warmth in the air collided with the Pacific chill cascading over the hillside, ushering the marine layer a little lower as Scully tilted the key until the engine sputtered then hummed. She let it idle, priming the display while Mulder went back to the front bench.

“Are you ready?” Scully elevated onto a knee and flicked a few nobs before wrapping her left hand around the wheel, looking up at Mulder through the glass as her right hand was steadying on the throttle.

“You’re not going to beach-bound us, right?” Mulder was gripping the edge of the cushion, his eyes wide as the front tip of the boat was already aiming toward the beach from the gentle turn of the wheel. “Scully…”

“Trust me,” Scully started to push up on the throttle, guiding their vessel forward while his eyebrows went up in the seats in front of her, the intention clear as she listened to the pinging of the unnecessary sonar on the display screen. “This boat is pretty easy to slide back out with the waves as long as I don’t completely beach her.”

Mulder was fascinated by Scully’s proficiency and ease behind the wheel, even more taken with her confidence as she described the process of taking the boat to shore. He wouldn’t have said it was a missed calling but it was a piece of her that hadn’t been brought to the surface in front of him nearly enough. She shined brighter than the lamplight of the lighthouse and glowed like the clusters of dinoflagellates that were popping up from the breaking froth to touch air. The flutter of lashes was like the wagging of an index, beckoning him forward, pulling him in. Much like the comber, Scully swayed and flourished against the backdrop of salty air and Mulder was a spectator drinking in the sight.

It was one that he would never grow tired of.

“I thought I was full of surprises,” Mulder felt the quiver of the boat bottom thumping against rolling swells as he shimmied out of his boots and socks, shoving them against the corner of the bench as the sand became visible in front of them. “You tell me when to hop out and I’ll tug big Bertha where you want her, Scully.”

“I’m trying to concentrate, Mulder, not be _entertained_ ,” Scully couldn’t help but laugh at the remark at she was already backing off of the throttle, moving her eyes between him and the soft, white line of foam in the sand as it crept back to meet the waves. “When I idle, we’ll be close enough to drag her closer.”

“I excel at being entertaining, Scully,” Mulder hiked up his pants, rolling them high above his calves while Scully had the engine at a dull crawl, the whirring beneath the boat coming in sputters as the front began to level off enough for him to straddle the edge. “Oh, _fuck_ me, that’s cold!”

“Were you expecting bathwater?” Scully let the engine idle as Mulder shot her a dirty look while haphazardly shifting his weight over the side letting his feet finally touch the shifting sand beneath the water, shocked over how fast it hit at his waist. “I should’ve had you pull her in further.”

“I’ll keep my joke to myself,” Mulder held onto the looped rope that he’d gathered around the cleats at the bow, generously pulling the boat until the resistance of sand was pressed beneath the watercraft. “It might’ve been useless to roll up my pants and I am going to laugh at the face you make over just how cold this is.”

“I’m anticipating the instant regret the moment my toes even start to touch the water,” Scully turned the engine off and shifted to the spot where the anchor had been placed, pulling it to the side to heave over without letting the rest of the chain go further than the spot beside the boat. “That could’ve gone a different way.”

“Should’ve let me climb back up there to help with that,” Mulder still had a hold of the rope as he was moving along the side, tugging the boat to assure it was mobile but not so loose that it could be carried away by a sweeping tide while Scully was taking off her boots and socks. “Are you going to be less reckless and use the ladder?”

“By less reckless you mean I’m going to consider our height difference?” Scully chewed on the inside of her cheek as the chill in the air was already biting at the exposed skin of her toes as she emptied her pockets, tossing the wallet onto the spot where she’d already discarded her jacket. “Have you already soaked your wallet or is it in your coat?”

“My pockets are empty,” Mulder wasn’t exactly hiding his gaze as he curled his fingers around the top curve while she straddled the top of the ladder, her smile all but gone as the water touched the bottom of her foot. “Oh, don’t hold back every foul word, I can see it all over your face.”

“You are so fucking lucky that I am not armed because I would shoot you and leave you for dead,” Scully gritted her teeth as she let him brace her at the waist while she lowered herself toward the sand below as a wave splashed high enough to soak her clear up to her chest. “Fuck! Oh, fuck! Come on, you had a moment to acclimate to this shit! Dammit!”

Mulder didn’t want to laugh but it slipped out as he gave the boat a final tug while Scully began to move toward the shallows. He didn’t have to remind her that it was her idea. It was written on her face as her teeth chattered from afar while he trudged through the water toward her, awkwardly stepping across the foam as they left the boat just feet away. They hadn’t thought out the distance between but numbness had already begun to set in as the tingling nibbled through their extremities, the not-so-subtle reminder them that they were playing with fire. Even as their toes sank into the sand, the nip in the air was equal to the one that had been sweeping through the waves.

Somehow, despite the temps, they couldn’t help but smile at each other as the sound of the ocean and the foghorn brought them back to the other’s gaze.

“I didn’t have a plan to soak either of us,” Mulder bit down on his smirk as he wriggled his toes into the sand, watching her stagger from the blistering chill working its way through her body. “What’s the plan, Stan?”

“Look down and watch what happens when you walk,” Scully swallowed hard and beamed as she glanced at her toes in the sand, kicking up the loose grit as she shook her heels free and let her wet pants cling tighter to her skin. “A little better than struggling to see the glow in the water, don’t you think?”

Scully’s science-oriented thought process had fostered something luminous in the sand as Mulder listened to the instruction before dragging his toes in a semi-circle to create a solid line of blue and deep green. The fascination was hard to hide as the smile curved across Mulder’s mouth and the moment of observation began while he sunk his toes a little further into the granules of sand. It wasn’t dramatically bright but it was enough to spark something brilliant as Mulder admired his prints in the sand while intentionally eclipsing the distance from Scully. The sand, warm and halfway pleasant to the touch, clashed with the surge of chilly water as it rose and fell against the shore. The wetter the sand, the brighter the reaction and the quicker the flash as the stars peered through the gaps in the clouds above.

It was as close to romance as they’d ever gotten and it was under the guise of Mulder’s curiosity instead of honesty that he wanted Scully there, just as close as she was now, with her eyes drifting north, toward Seal Rock.

Even as the lighthouse beam of light began to weave its way along the cliffs, illuminating the gaps between Seal Rock and the beach, Mulder was transfixed on the possibility that Scully’s eyes would wander back to him.

“You’re far away,” Mulder stepped off that ledge and rested his chin against her right shoulder, letting his body heat waft against her, instinctively covering her hands with his own.

“I’m cold and I’m watching the chemicals react as they hit the cliffs before going dim, only to repeat the cycle all over again,” Scully didn’t rebuff him or go rigid as his chin settled against the cotton material of her shirt, despite the trail of goosebumps that had spread across her skin. “If I wasn’t hyper-fixated on the numbness in my toes, I could stay here for hours.”

“We don’t have to stay out here,” Mulder hadn’t noticed that he’d begun rubbing her palms with the print of his thumb until he heard her swallow hard and watched her teeth hold her bottom lip in place in his peripheral. “If you’re cold, you’re cold.”

Scully closed her eyes, held a breath, and leaned into his cheek as he adjusted his posture behind her, reveling in the proximity to him as she followed the light trails along the rocks. “Shower, wine, and crawl under the covers?”

“In that order?” Mulder tested the limit and felt her cheek get hot against his as he bit back a grin. “I mean, that wo—”

“Yeah, in that order,” Scully cut him off and felt his Adam’s apple bob through the material of her shirt as he choked on his spit as she started backing away from him in the direction of the wayward boat floating against the tide. “Is that a problem, Mulder?”

Mulder swallowed hard and stumbled on his own feet as he followed, awkwardly shaking his head after nearly dropping to his knees in the sand. “Oh, no…no…it’s no problem at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes by:  
> Greg Holden, Jamie Hartman, Matthew Simons  
> Starcadian
> 
> I truly hope that the references to past episodes are being caught. There’s still one more part…of COURSE, I’m not leaving this hanging. On to chapter three!
> 
> Many thanks to Cate for the endless feedback AND to Crystal for peeking at the ending of the chapter when I thought I was losing my mind.


	3. Slowly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder didn’t know exactly where he stood but, much like his toes in the sand, the line had been obliterated and Scully had done so much more than invite him in.
> 
> “Look a little closer in those delicate eyes. Her heart’s a wild creature and her soul’s on fire.” – N.R. Hart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Utilizing the fabulous prompt from AnnieFlowers of 1. "Oh, my god! Did you see that?" 2. "Yeah, it was...". I was excited to get you because I have never written a fic for you, specifically, before and it felt like a challenge. My brain kept going back to a topic and I knew that Mulder’s curiosity would go so perfectly with a Scully that just wants to clear her mind. I hope this is everything you wanted and more. 
> 
> Also, the Embarcadero is real, I just can’t remember when it opened and was renovated. I am utilizing what I know is there (despite the lack of remembrance of the layout of the hotel itself)
> 
> Oh, and if anyone is wondering…the boat used in this chapter is beach-able and re-launch capable from the sand. I used to see them frequently where I grew up.

_Why do you put up_

_With **me**?_

_Because you’re fire…_

_And I’ve been cold_

_My whole life._

-A.R. Asher

_“Is that a problem, Mulder?”_

The question was still ricocheting around his skull in waist-high water with his hands balanced between the boat and Scully’s waist, helping her back into the vessel. Sensory overload tipped the scales as he looked up at her straddling the top rung of the ladder, face dripping with seaspray and cast off from her hair. Scully never looked more exquisite than she did with sopping wet hair and Mulder had seen her like this before but hadn’t stopped to contemplate her features. The rosiness in her cheeks, the shimmer in her eyes, and the trapped bottom lip between her teeth posed just below the drenched loops of copper locks. Scully would’ve disagreed with Mulder’s assessment but the unchanged, unrelenting gaze spoke volumes even as her feet touched the deck behind the captain’s seat.

Scully flipped the switches and started the engine while he was busily giving the bow a gentle shove, dislodging the boat from the sandbar. “You’re awfully quiet, Mulder. You’re never this silent.”

“Concentrating on not getting sucked under,” Mulder was moving along the starboard side until his hands found the ladder, pulling the excess weight of bogged down clothes right along with him. “I think the tide is coming in. The water got colder while I was struggling with my footing.”

“That’s the one thing I didn’t check before we cast off tonight,” Scully ran her fingers through her hair, doing her best to hide the teeth chatter, and primed the engine as Mulder nearly stumbled across the decking behind her while the sputter of the throttle carried on. “Tide charts.”

“The tried and true method of flying by the seat of your pants strikes again,” Mulder chuckled, hoisted the anchor, and turned his head just in time for the lighthouse beam to illuminate the gooseflesh across every inch of Scully’s exposed skin on her arms, amplifying the tremble as she held onto the wheel. “Scully, you’re shaking…”

“I’ll be okay. The ride back won’t be that long,” Scully was unbearably cold but she maintained her stance at the controls, rolling the wheel as she pushed the throttle just enough to start treading through the surf, glancing back at him with a tightlipped smile. “I think we’re both due for a change of clothes and a room with the heat on.”

“It doesn’t mean that you have to freeze to death,” Mulder staggered to the seat beside her and gathered the dry, warm coat he had been wearing from the cushion, angling his torso in such a way that he could wrap it around her without taking her off balance. “This will help, won’t it?”

“When did you become so chivalrous?” Scully pushed her tongue against the inside of her cheek while the tips of Mulder’s fingers dotted across the back of her neck and down her shoulders from properly securing his coat around her. “Not that I mind it or anything…”

“I’m always a gentleman,” Mulder wrinkled his nose and admired the sight of Scully draped in his coat as he held onto the back of the passenger seat while she navigated, eyebrow elevated toward the sky. “I see you making that face, Scully.”

“We’ll see how much of a gentleman you are when we get back to the room and it’s a battle for the shower,” Scully clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth while the first glimpse of the lights of the Yaquina Bay bridge twinkled in the distance as she eased the turn into the jetty channel.

Mulder cut off an impending slip of his tongue with the chewing of his upper lip, subtly hiding it behind the bottom one as Scully’s eyes were busy on the controls. Her concentration was at another level and his had gone astray as a flashing impulse to peel away every layer of Scully’s wet clothes crawled into Mulder’s brain, settling there as though he’d invited it. Mulder blinked away the vivid, raw image and sucked salt into his lungs as the mist passed over the boat, hovering just enough to make it difficult to see. The blaring of the foghorn from Yaquina Head Lighthouse carried in the air and pulled Scully’s focus as the splashing of water against rocks, ignoring the display in front of her even as the sonar beeped, alerting her of ebbs and flows beneath the boat. Scully was listening to the water and operating on instinct.

Muscle memory.

Another reason for Mulder to fixate on Scully a little more.

“I don’t like it when you’re quiet,” Scully pulled back on the throttle as the boat had begun to bounce a little higher than necessary against the fluttering wakes they’d brought in with the tide, smoothing out the ride with the crawling of the motor. “Your wheels never stop turning and when you’re this silent, it means you’re up to something.”

“That intimation is highly inaccurate, Scully,” Mulder laughed nervously and wrinkled his nose as he wrapped his fingers around the pole holding the cover in place, straightening out his spine while watching the skeletal figure of the bridge jutted from the fog far beyond the curve in the bay. “I’m thinking about how long it’ll take before my toes fall off while listening to the sound of waves crashing behind us.”

The lie would’ve been a solid save on any other night.

Scully pursed her lips together and fanned her lashes at him as the harbor lights were dead ahead and nearly synchronized to the flasher at the bow. Aside from being hyper-aware of exactly how tight her jeans were, Scully was acutely cognizant of the body language that went hand-in-hand with a Mulder branded lie and she was staring at it as he awkwardly shifted his weight from right to left. It was like catching a small child with their hand in the cookie jar. She just didn’t know exactly why and was more interested in discovering the motivation than calling him out. Plus, her inseam was reminding her that she was capable of letting her mind wander entirely too far as the twitch extended through every nerve, setting her on fire.

“How irresponsible would it be to just walk up the sidewalk barefoot?” Scully asked as held onto the jacket, the first curve of the docks just in view, her fingers holding the wheel a little tighter as the swirling water jostled beneath the craft. “I don’t want to wrestle with socks and boots just to walk up the hill.”

“I’m not putting mine back on,” Mulder leaned out, reaching for the lip of the dock to secure a section of the cleats around the tiedown, his tongue between his teeth. “We’ll get her secured and drop the key in the box—then run.”

Scully didn’t move out of the enormous draping of Mulder’s coat as she flipped switches until every display and light went dark, her little feet tapping against the decking while she gathered her boots with socks stuffed inside. Mulder beamed as she maneuvered around with understated grace, slipping her hands as far down to the ends of the sleeves as they’d go. Some sights were incomparably perfect and Scully in his coat had climbed to the top. Mulder secured the bow to the dock while Scully put away the last of the gear, returning their vessel as they claimed it, minus a soaked bottom. Neither uttered a syllable as Mulder climbed out first, carrying her coat and his boots around one arm while his free hand reached back to guide her up the wet steps.

Mulder had to demonstrate another layer of boyish charm and Scully did everything not to knock him flat as her knees buckled.

“Okay, maybe you were right earlier,” Mulder dropped the keys into the late drop and started heading up the walk toward the hotel a little further up the hill, hiding his smirk as the foghorn blared again. “I could live in a place like this.”

“I’d ask you if you’re ill but I might have to direct that same question at myself with how cold I am,” Scully rubbed her lips together while the bottoms of her feet met the top of the ramp and the handrail ended abruptly with their hotel room’s building just up the hill. “There’s just something about a place like this and it isn’t that it’s quiet or loud—it’s somewhere between the two.”

“Comfortably chaotic,” Mulder resembled a teenager as his eyes had fallen on the dividing lines in the cement, examining them as they neared the building, occasionally stealing a glance at Scully’s lightly coral, painted toenails. “When did you start doing that?”

“Doing what?” Scully choked on her spit, her eyes widened, and her feet staggered on the final approach as his question startled her while he reached for the door handle. “What was I doing?”

“Nothing bad, Scully,” Mulder couldn’t help but laugh at her as he let her into the building and elevated a brow as she turned a remarkably bright shade of pink. “I was referring to your toes—when did you start panting them different colors? You’re normally a clear coat kind of woman.”

“I, uh, I don’t know?” Scully stammered and felt the heat rising throughout her extremities as the flush in her cheeks intensified on the jaunt up the stairs, her tone reluctant yet undeniably sweet as she came up to the first landing. “When did you start looking at my feet?”

_That was flirty._

They both were thinking it. They both felt it rippling through them much like the painfully cold water had but this was far more exhilarating. The dormant, idle parts of their lives stretched aching digits toward the heavens and triggered something deep within that resembled something loaded. Wanton. Respectively needy. Urgency took the place of desire and flicked a switch in the darkness while the salt-kissed air flooded the curves of the stairwell and hugged the corners of the hallway. For the first time, though, they weren’t running from it, either, as Mulder swiped the room key and gave the handle a turn while Scully instinctively bit down on the corner of her lip to hide the grin.

Hell, Scully was quelling the urge to cover the floor in discarded layers of wet clothes.

“What? Can’t a guy just notice things about his partner?” Mulder earned a penetrative stare from her as he dropped his boots on the floor and let the door close on itself with an equally loud thud while she was much more dainty with the discarding of hers. “Don’t give me that look.”

“I’m sure _a guy_ can notice, but _you_? Not nearly as likely,” Scully draped his coat over one of the chairs as he evaded the continuing look by ducking into the bathroom, where the sound of water running had her furrowing her brow. “Mulder—no—come on, you’ll kill all of the hot water!”

“I’m pretty good at sharing when I want to be,” Mulder said with a cheekiness as he made eye contact through that viewing window beside the bed after discarding his shirt, his hair already mussed while his digits went for the belt. “I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

“Mulder, _that_ is not a shower,” Scully had her hands on her hips even as she turned away, meekly tearing away a gaze that she didn’t know she should continue as the sound of the buckle hitting the floor took her off balance. “I thought you said shower, wine, then bed?”

“If you recollect correctly, Scully,” Mulder leaned over the edge of the tub and tested the temp with the tips of his fingers, swirling the water with enough vigor that it made her twitch from the other side of the wall. “You’re the one that said that…I’m being pretty generous, though, by offering to share this enormous bubble bath.”

“Jesus,” Scully swallowed hard at the drop in octave and glanced over her shoulder as a glimpse of bare skin passed into her periphery, illuminating his thigh as it ducked below the edge of the tub. “What are you—I don’t even—how do I process what you’re offering?”

Mulder hissed as the hot water hit his backside while he settled against the spigot, letting it spray against his back as it continued to fill the basin past the halfway point, spreading bubbles everywhere. “There’s enough room in here for your short, little legs to more than be accommodated and I’ll be on my best behavior. Nothing to process about that.”

The words struck like an incredible epiphany and wrenched on the remaining defenses that Scully had built around her carefully guarded heart as awareness of Mulder’s intent clicked into place. The flirtation was mutual. She recognized it as the instinctive itch to chew the inside of her cheek climbed in time with the surge of her blood pressure. She could feel his eyes on her and as she made eye contact, the lust lit up in his hazel eyes while he rested his chin against the edge of the tub. There wasn’t a request on his face but, instead, a plea not to leave his offer unanswered.

Scully’s limbs just weren’t cooperating as the anxiousness collided with yearning.

“I should’ve said wine, shower, then bed,” Scully’s actions betrayed her timid voice as she was already halfway around the corner, doing her level best not to trip over her own feet while making eye contact with Mulder as he shifted in the tub. “Close your eyes, at least?”

Mulder’s shoulders were barely visible above the fluff of bubbles and his eyes were directed up at her as the water continued to move higher in the basin, a huskiness in his tone as he tilted his head. “You know, I didn’t avert my eyes the last time you disrobed in front of me. Do you really want to hide from me now?”

“That was different,” Scully had a hold of the top of her pants, tentatively popping a button free with the zipper lingering at the top as she swallowed hard. “Clinical. Logistical. Uninvolved.”

Mulder’s reluctance to oblige the request was conspicuous but he did as she requested with a blatant, audible sigh. The impulsive side of Scully wouldn’t have minded it but the rabbit-like beating of her heart was more than enough to question it even as she wrestled with her jeans. The heat radiating off of her extremities was palpable and clashed with the chill that remained on the expanse of her skin. Scully had never been more aware of the shape of her own body as she shed each article of clothing, letting the porcelain and pink scream for far too long before clumsily maneuvering into the tub. A moan escaped her lips as the high temperature of the water spread through her, renewing the gooseflesh up her back.

The sound, fueled by intensity, blended seamlessly into a low, contented sigh as her backside finally touched the bottom.

“Hey, that’s my foot under your ass,” Mulder grunted and opened his eyes as Scully’s head leaned back enough to touch the edge. “Comfortable?”

“That’s not my ass, that’s my thigh and stop wiggling your toes,” Scully smacked his ankle and bent her knees, avoiding the interception of his body even though he seemed content being well within her bubble. “Do I have to give you an anatomy lesson?”

“I don’t need educating by Doctor Scully while in the tub. I plan on mindlessly letting the water go cold and climbing out after I’ve turned into a prune,” Mulder smirked and reached behind his head to turn the water off after it had reached an optimal height to conceal their bodies from the open air. “All traces of sand will be gone and I’ll be fully thawed.”

“I don’t know if I plan on doing that since the bubbles won’t outlast the hot water,” Scully brought her chin level and hugged her arms against her body while finding that solace in Mulder’s steadfast, softened gaze. “What is that look for?”

“Wondering how long you’re going to sit over there when there’s a, uh, a perfectly good loofah over here,” Mulder wasn’t the type to stutter but he was doing just that as he fidgeted enough to come above the water enough to show his pectorals behind a mound of billowy, shimmery bubbles. “…If you want, that is.”

“Are you offering to wash my back, Mulder?” Scully’s voice dropped unintentionally with that question as she rubbed her hands across her knees and wriggled her toes beneath the hot water while setting her teeth against her bottom lip. “Are you aware that you’re stuttering?”

“Water is kinda hot,” Mulder nodded and ran a couple of fingers through his hair while the apples of his cheeks became a little redder, gesturing toward his chest. “Just, turn around and scoot back…but not too far.”

Hesitancy tumbled out a window as Scully licked her lips and exhaled slowly. The leap was taken and Scully parted the sea, spinning in a deliberate, sedated circle between Mulder’s knees, grasping his flesh just enough to elicit a hum that preceded the jolt of his musculature. There was no ignoring the erection against her back and Scully knew she had made it worse as she leaned back to connect with his chest. The air went out of his lungs as he resisted the impulse, the spasm coursing through his body, and glided his fingers up her arms to trace the outline of her collarbone. The silence was deafening while Scully’s cheek naturally moved against Mulder’s with the surrendered list of her neck, angling her line of sight into his.

Neither wanted to move but the mutual gnawing was torturous as they buzzed with an untouched longing that set their skin ablaze.

“That’s not a loofah, Mulder,” Scully’s voice was already ragged as his hands were precariously perched along her neck, creating a hyper-awareness of her hyoid bone as she swallowed against his palm.

“That’s an astute observation, Scully,” Mulder groaned as her weight shifted against him enough to make the erection jump and throb more than it already was from the instant sensory overload. “Just like that was scooting very far…ah, fuck.”

“If you want me to move but I hope you don’t,” Scully inhaled a breath and held it as Mulder’s digits were wandering, tiptoeing the point of no return as they reached the swell of her breasts, pushing away the pearlescent foam just a little. “I’m going to be pissed if this is just a transient phenomenon and my eyes are really closed…”

“I don’t want you to move but I’ll leave the choice up to you,” Mulder’s eyes committed to watching her mouth as it trembled just inches away, his intent far from clear as he followed the curve of her side to her hips, coaxing a moan as he let his hands linger there. “Finding a way to get you alone and looking for the most reasonable, typical thing that you’d expect from me to accomplish that end. I haven’t slept well in weeks and the common denominator in every nightmare was you slipping further from my grip…from my reach.”

“Mulder…” Scully wanted to be angry but the same fear had been swirling in her belly for an identical reason and she was drowning in the emotional battle until his nose redirected the tilt of her head enough for him to drag his teeth across the space below her earlobe. “Oh, my God…mmm, well…that’s one way to get your way this time.”

“I don’t want to get my way, Scully,” Mulder brought his index to her chin, shifting just enough to get a steady gaze on her, his thumb smoothing across her bottom lip while the bubbles puffed between their chests. “I want to get it right and finish what I started before everything came crashing down around us.”

Scully could already taste it in her mouth, the acrid memory of tears, grazing his lips, and the sharp sting that robbed them of so much more than time. The threat of abandoning him was almost as earthshattering as everything that followed and the Earth never quite tilted on its axis quite right afterward. They’d done nothing but run since then and it wasn’t into each other’s arms as it should have been. It was parallel or slightly askew, but never fully intercepting until now. Not without a little interference from poorly made plans, phosphorescent plankton, and a night that felt as though it had no end. Some things didn’t need an explanation or rationality.

Some things just needed a little helping hand or a firm shove into the frigid, ocean water to get the ball in motion.

“Stop talking and prove it,” Scully’s forearm dipped down as she pressed her palm against the bottom, shifting her knee over the top of his to initiate contact with more of him, skillfully gathering her digits across his jawline. “No more waiting and wondering.”

Mulder contemplated Scully’s features, the soft, sloping curves of alabaster and porcelain with faint hints of freckles in places she’d done so much to hide. He scrutinized her shape, memorizing her with the tips of his fingers just before eclipsing the distance, pushing her lips apart with his own as his hand gathered through her wet tresses. Bubbles flooded over the side and splashed against the tile as limbs intertwined and grasped at slippery edges as passion melted with unbridled impatience. They’d waited so long to feel, to taste, to envelope each other in more than a kiss and the confines of the bathtub were doing little to hold it all in. Fevered gasps and elongated moans echoed in the bathroom as the remnants of steam dissipated while desperately clinging hands destroyed the shimmering spheres as they clung to the top of the water.

“That’s going to be a problem,” Mulder admired the sight of her red, swollen mouth before leaning to look at the puddle on the floor, grinning at the mess they’d already made. “A towel should keep that from being out of control.”

Scully elevated a brow and pulled the drain plug as Mulder reached for the stack of towels, flashing his backside at her as he rose from the water far quicker than she’d expected. “Well…look at what you were hiding under your jeans…”

Mulder tossed a towel on the floor to mop up the slippery mess before draping one over the top of her head, his Cheshire cat grin just wide enough to be intriguing as he continued out of the room. “That’s only half of what’s in the book, Scully.”

“I think we’re about to beat Frohike’s first three volumes of cheesy come-ons and I don’t mind it at all,” Scully stood, wrapping the dry towel around her torso until it could be secured just enough to climb out without holding it while the water surged down the drain. “Mulder?”

“Frohike only knows how to bait the hook,” Mulder chuckled as he sat at the end of the bed, the unaccommodating towel clinging to his hips with one thigh flashed through the edges that wouldn’t touch. “He doesn’t know how to cast the line out to catch anything.”

Scully crossed her arms as she approached, trying to hide the smile as was within arm’s reach and close enough to fully focus on the droplets of water glistened across his visible, exposed skin. “And you do?”

The affirmation was wordless as he slid to the edge, tugged her arms to her sides, gazed up at her, and plucked the tucked corner of the towel from its spot, loosening the wrap around her. Mulder’s eyes never left Scully’s even as the terrycloth dropped to the floor and she shined in the moonlight like a siren luring a sailor to his death. Mulder bit down on his tongue witnessing the sweet, soft twitch of Scully’s lip while he reached out to caress every inch of her, every curve, every gooseflesh kissed bit that was screaming for more. Even as he moved a little further forward to drag his fingers down her back while his lips marked a trail from her navel to her breasts, his gaze remained steadfast on her. He was slow, methodical, and bordered on torturous with his nibbles, caresses, and flicks as her fingers snaked through his hair for balance and held on.

Urgency.

Mulder wanted to take his time but Scully was on fire and the heat was radiating off of every part of her as his index curled against a bundle of nerves, wheedling a throaty moan that reverberated through her body. Her knees buckled and her thighs trembled as he strummed her like an instrument, his eyes still in her orbit. There was no denying they hadn’t imagined this moment going quite like this but the electricity continuously firing was more than enough to erase the doubts. They’d surrendered to it and let it take over with finality. They needed each other more than they could ever say in words.

“God, Scully,” Mulder pulled her to him, guiding her onto his lap with her knees around his hips, his hands firmly grasping her backside. “You are—gorgeous.”

Scully held a breath as the often hidden became illuminated in the bright glow of the moon and the amber lights of the harbor, concealed only by the loving caress of the man beneath her. Scully held his face with the tips of her fingers and laid soft, gentle kisses along the line of his jaw while her hips reminded him of what he’d been missing. Mulder groaned toward the ceiling and squeezed Scully’s thighs tighter as she undulated just enough to push him over the edge. Mulder’s attempt to go slow went creeping away as he cradled Scully’s backside and pivoted around, resting her comfortably against the still-made bed with her legs still around his waist. The excess friction, however, caused the clumsy loss of the damp towel that had been around him as his hard-on pressed against her, throbbing with the collision of heat.

“You thought you were going to lose me?” Scully arched her back into him and gripped his shoulders as her eyes stared up at his, a hint of sadness creeping in as an errant tear streaked down the side of her face while she moved her knees a little higher. “I thought I had…help me forget that I did. I know it wasn’t real but it felt so real.”

The figurative fog had lifted with the admission and Mulder pressed his forehead against Scully’s with the first, painstakingly slow thrust that was years in the making. It wasn’t perfect but it wasn’t clumsy as the bed shuddered beneath them and absorbed the friction they’d brought to fruition. Scully said Mulder’s name in refrain as she tipped her head back, muffling the sound into a pillow as breaths became loud, unrestrained moans. They were both aware of the strength of the frame beneath them as the springs squealed twice before Mulder’s fingers coiled around the curve in the ornate headboard for leverage, thrusting a little faster with the not-so-subtle instruction from the woman beneath him. Every muscle twitched and contracted as their bodies found a rhythm that they hadn’t known with one another before, wrapped in one another like climbing vinery.

The world fell away and the Earth tilted into place, properly on its axis, eradicating every bad thing that had ever happened along the way.

The vast expanse of stars flashed before the kaleidoscope of colors became a flood of emotion, heat, rapid-fire axons, and the convulsive refrain of muscles as their strings were plucked simultaneously. Every moment came down to this one as time slowed to a crawl to find synchronicity with a singular breath and the grasp of sheets. The twinge became a spasm and the bed took the brunt of the movement as they held on, keening each other’s name until the sound became nothing more than a breathy whisper. Consumed. Exhausted. Complete. Satiated. Nothing had quite made an impact like the feeling of a release and Mulder only tumbled over the edge with her once he heard the sound she made. Like poetry and something cheesy, it was rapture. 

It went beyond the standard definition of satisfied as the chill set in while they held each other atop the messy bed. Mulder groped for the top layer of blankets, folding them across both of them as their attention drifted to the moon through the open curtains. It was hazy through the gaps in the clouds and almost had a halo of deep blue around it even with the glow of the amber lights radiating from below. Then the foghorn blasted again and a smile stretched across Mulder’s lips as he held her tight.

“You know…” Mulder chuckled and nibbled on her neck as he spooned against her. “We forgot about the wine.”

“I don’t know about you but I’m perfectly content right here,” Scully moved her fingers across the top of his, her smile soft and lulled as she pulled the blanket higher, holding on a little tighter. “That PTO isn’t going to use itself.”

“Are you saying you want to stay awhile?” Mulder had his cheek against hers as he moved his arm beneath her head, keeping her close and cocooned against him with the blankets.

Scully caressed the lines on the inside of his hands, contemplated where they’d been and where they were headed, finding solace in it as her heart rate continued to soften with every breath. “I’m saying, there’s no hurry…we can just be right here. In the moment. Slowly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quotes by:   
> N.R. Hart  
> A.R. Asher
> 
> I truly hope that you love this and that it isn’t too much. When the thought crossed my mind of this topic, it had so much to cover…I just went for it. I was nervous. I don’t know you well but I know you’re a prolific reader so I had my work cut out for me…I tried to put in as much of the little tidbits as I could without sending it into no man’s land. 
> 
> PS: to Cate, you kept me sane and I wouldn’t have made it without you. Thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> Quotes by:  
> Rick Benetfeau  
> Unknown  
> Eleanor Roosevelt
> 
> I hope everyone caught the little easter eggs in there. This is one of those fics that has been such a joy to write and I hope that you love it.
> 
> PS: Cate, my dear, you're a godsend.


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